


Closing Time

by Larxicana



Series: Avalanche: The Most Fancy Ass Restaurant in all of Midgar. [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cid doesn't understand a lot of things, Cook!Cid, Everyone is tired, Fancy Restaurant Setting, Humor, M/M, Modern AU, Server!Vincent, rated for Cid's mouth, restaurant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larxicana/pseuds/Larxicana
Summary: Cid doesn't understand a lot of times. Why order Chicken Marsala without mushrooms? Why do people camp at tables long after they close? Why do kitchen appliances appear randomly in his house?Why does Vincent have a very large, very fat, and very mysterious bag in his apron?





	Closing Time

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed writing this too much.

It was closing time. The last campers of the night had left and the restaurant had lolled into a peaceful silence. The only sounds were that of the crew cleaning up for the night. Cid sat at the bar, where Tifa was wiping things down, nursing a cold beer that was sweating all over his hand. He had one arm on the counter, where his head rested against it, and his eyes closed as he slowly came back to himself. They had been busy tonight, like really busy. So busy, that Cid didn’t even know his name or that there was a world outside that silver, revolving door.

A huff of a laugh came from behind the counter as a hand touched his shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “You did good tonight, chief.” Tifa told him, “From what I heard, everything came out perfect. There were no complaints, nobody sent anything back, you never missed an order… you should be proud of that.” Cid grunted in response, which made her chuckle. Her hand soon retreated and the shuffling sound behind the counter continued.

Cid sat there a moment longer, before finally dragging his head up, rubbing his face roughly. He took a sip of his beer, which was entirely overpriced, he was sure. Thank Shiva Reeve let them eat and drink here for free. _“Anything for our vets!”_ He’d say. Cid placed his bottle heavily on the counter again and sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He paused like this, enjoying the pressure against his eyes, until he felt a presence brush up beside him, just far enough away to leave a sliver of air between them. Cid dropped his hand to look up at Vincent, who had a faraway look to his very tired eyes. Of course the man never looked _physically_ tired, but Cid could tell by the way he held himself and how glassy his eyes were. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like out on the floor tonight, if the kitchen’s status was anything to go by.

“Hey sweetheart…” He murmured, lifting a hand to place it on the man’s lower back, then slid it slowly upwards. Vincent relaxed against his touch, leaning into it. Cid curled his fingers to put some pressure behind his touch, which caused Vincent’s shoulders to droop slightly and his eyes to slip shut. He finally closed the distance between them and leaned against his partner with a silent sigh.

“You poor thing,” Tifa said with a frown that made her lips jut out slightly, like a pout. “Here, I’ve got just the thing. Hold tight.”

Cid watched her wander off then turned his attention back to Vincent, reaching up to gently pull the elastic from his hair. He then threaded his fingers through it, rubbing his scalp in a gentle massage. Vincent hummed. “Don’ see how ya do it… suck up to all ‘em rich bastards like that all night.”

The raven haired man finally opened his eyes and moved away from him for a moment so he could reach into his apron. He pulled out a very fat, zip-up bag and dropped it on the counter with a decent thump. Cid’s eyes widened slightly as he eyed it. Vincent shifted to brace his elbows against the counter to lean on, pushing the bag closer to Cid with the back of his hand. “Take a look.”

“Do I wanna know wha’s in there?”

Vincent said nothing to this.

“Is it… it ain’t pot, is it?”

“Yes, because I carry a pound around with me at all times.”

“S’plains why yer so calm all the time…”

Vincent sighed.

Tifa soon returned and placed a glass in front of Vincent, filled very generously with a red wine. Vincent eyed it with much interest, before lifting a hand to slide it closer to him, like a dragon hoarding gold. Tifa laughed.

“Holy shit!” They turned their attention to Cid, who had unzipped the mysterious bag and was currently gawking at the amount of gil practically bursting out.

Tifa grinned, “Wow! Nice haul!”

Cid turned his big eyes to Vincent, who was taking a causal sip of his wine, watching him. The man never gulped in public. “You don’t think I do this job because I like it or because Reeve asked me to, do you?” The ruby eyed man asked as he set his glass back down.

_“Is that a hundred?”_

Vincent said nothing.

“Tha’s more than I make in a week!”

Tifa put her hands on the counter and stretched like a cat, smirking, “Well I see who wears the pants in the relationship now.” Cid turned a glare on her as Vincent said nothing and pulled his tips back towards him.

Vincent zipped the bag back up and stuffed it in his apron again. “I would not do this five nights a week if it wasn’t worth my while.”

Tifa raised an eyebrow, “Cid, you two are married. How did you not know about this?”

Cid looked at her with big eyes as he made a wild motion to the man beside him, “He don’ tell me anythang! Shit just appears! Like last month, the fridge went to shit, and the next day, there was a brand new one sittin’ there! Real nice! And I says, ‘Vince, _where’d_ this fridge come from?’ and ya know what he does? He just looks at me! For all I know, he fuckin’ _stole_ the damn thang!” He turned to glare at his husband, who glanced over at him calmly and casually.

“Do you want me to return it?” Vincent asked.

“No!”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

Tifa snorted then laughed, putting a hand to her mouth. Cid made a face at her, “S’not funny!” He snapped then took a swig of his beer.

“Vincent,” the man turned at his name, watching Cloud step up beside him. He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb, “Silverware’s ready.” Vincent must have made his distaste known somehow, because Cloud sighed, “Yeah I know,” before he turned and walked off.

Tifa gave him an encouraging smile, “Hey, chin up! That’s the last thing you have to do before you leave!” Vincent turned an unamused look to her, which caused her to shrug.

He then looked at Cid, “Are you almost done?” he asked.

Cid sighed and stood from the bar chair, stretching until his back popped, then finished the last of his beer. “Yeah, just gotta check on the runts. Should be finished by the time ya’ll are.” Vincent nodded once, gave him a quick kiss, then turned to wander in the direction Cloud went, taking his wine glass with him. Cid slid the empty beer bottle to Tifa, who tossed it in the recycling bin for him. He thanked her then wandered back into the kitchen to kick his underlings into gear. There was nothing scarier than his tired husband when he was ready to leave and Cid wasn’t.


End file.
